I just got up and while I was reading the tweets of last night, I heard the loud sound of the trash truck outside. Then it dawned on me. Isn't it wonderful that once a week, every week, all we have to do is roll all of the crap that we don't want in our homes out to the curb and it just gets taken away? I think I've been taking this weekly miracle for granted.

Do you think this process could be applied to our own lives as well? We could discard all of the things that cannot be used, or have gone bad, or emptied and cannot be refilled. Then once a week, get it all out; like to the curb, and some kind of big magical truck could come along and take it all away.

It was just a thought… one of those thoughts you get when you are no longer dreaming and not yet focused on the tasks of the day.

Well, I've got to go, I think I hear that magical trash truck coming now and I've got a whole lot of shit to get out there before it passes and I'm stuck with it in my life for another week. Bye.

I have never thought of myself as a captor. I am however really struggling with the thought of not being able to continue my life with the ONE I love. There was never another; not during, and not even before.

She says that we may end up reconciling, but at this time I am the only that wants that.

So why am I posting a public blog about something so very personal? I have no idea. I have no fear of people knowing such intimate details of my life. I have nothing to hide and no reason not to be so open.

that is what I strive so hard to be… OPEN. Open to possibilities. Open to alternatives to what is normal. It is how I have achieved anything worthwhile in my life. I was open to the idea (posed to me by robin) of returning to school after never doing any better than a 2.75 GPA. I was open to taking a chance to work at MySpace even though so much stacked up against it happening. And biggest of all, I was open to whatever would become of a lunch with a girl at a 50's diner back in November of 1992.

so now I am open to letting her go. I recognize that odds are really bad for a reconciliation, but I have no control of odds. I only have control of my hopes, wants, and desires.

For those of you who read this far… thank you. And for all of you who have reached out to me with comforting words… I am so grateful.

As for the right now… I have plans to take a wonderful girl dancing tonight.

I have recently begun to notice my love, affections, and efforts leaking. I put so much into it, yet it seems to just fizzle out making that well known farting sound in the process. At times there appears to be some progress, and some of it builds up, but it too ends up escaping as well. I'm getting tired. Even lite-headed. Like blowing up a balloon that never seems to fill. I must once again return to my breathing and find the balance, for this balloon is my life.

I've thought of this question before, but have not been really tested until recently. I'm beginning to feel that the hard road I'm on may go on for some time. My willingness to continue the journey is very strong. It is my hope that flickers so delicately with each passing breath from my lips. Yet as I inhale deeply once again, I regain balance and continue on this road with the flickering light of hope in front of me.

All of them. It does not matter the type of relationship, there is work involved in keeping the balance. Siblings, friends, spouses, partners… all of these have the possibility of harmony, and maintaining/achieving this is both the challenge and the journey of the living and breathing relationship.

It has a natural beauty to it. The colors are full of life. How is this garden so vibrant? It is the love that is shared with it. Clumsy, imperfect care. Children overwatering, overpicking, and sometimes even trampling them. All of this in love. Are these actions mistakes? Or is it all just a part of life? One thing I do know for sure… grandma's garden is full of life and beauty.

I will spend my entire life at the shore. There are times when the tide comes in far enough to fill me up. Other times I know not when next I'll see it again. Ebb & flow. I remain by the shore. Ebb & Flow.